


cashmere & cocoa

by veritasLItg



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Strangers, one bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritasLItg/pseuds/veritasLItg
Summary: Amber's a nature and wildlife photographer on a trip to Sweden. Henrik's just trying to forget the past.When a snowstorm sends her knocking on a stranger's door, will he be the shelter she so desperately needs?
Relationships: Henrik/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 27





	cashmere & cocoa

**Author's Note:**

> Monthly prompt competition from r/LITGFanFiction on Reddit.
> 
> Thanks to MK for your inspiration, encouragement, and _especially_ for letting me use your title, and thanks to Lauren for looking this over, going through Swedish poetry, and encouraging me to end it the way I did. 😉

_Din värme, din mjuka värme ber jag om_

_(Your warmth, your soft warmth I beg for)_

_\- Din värme by Karin Boye_

* * *

“Oh, are you heading out today?” the concierge at the hotel desk asked as Amber Reynolds walked through the lobby.

“I am, yes,” she replied, giving the woman a quick smile as she dug around in her bag for the key to her rental car.

“There’s a snowstorm expected. I’m not sure what time it’s supposed to start, but—”

“I’ll be fine,” Amber reassured her. Her fingers closed around the key and pulled it out of the bag, which she zipped up and threw over her shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye out and head back before it gets bad.”

“Are you sure? It can come on quick, and cell phone reception is spotty in places.”

“No worries, I don’t plan to go too far.”

“Alright.” The lady gave her a smile that didn’t reach the eyes, not masking the worry she obviously still felt.

Amber pushed open the front door and stepped outside, instinctively drawing her scarf closer around her neck as the cold air bit against her skin. She shivered and then traipsed across the parking lot to her waiting vehicle. Opening the door and sliding inside, she threw her bag onto the passenger seat, then leaned forward and looked up at the sky, searching for any sign of the impending snowstorm. The sky was clear, and the sun was shining, so she figured she had at least a few hours to work with.

She double-checked her directions, then shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the hotel car park. Flipping on the radio, she skimmed through the stations until she came across a station playing ABBA.

 _When in Sweden_ , she thought with a smile as she turned up the volume. She danced along to the music as she drove, singing and tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

A short while later, Amber saw the road sign she was looking for and pulled off onto a small access road next to a forest. She shut the engine off and grabbed her bag off the seat, then opened the door and stepped out, breathing in deeply to take in the comforting scent of pine trees.

She locked the car door and slung her bag across her body so she could keep her hands free, then pulled on a pair of mittens before stepping into the forest.

She trudged through the untouched snow, keeping an eye out for animal tracks as her feet carried her deeper and deeper through the trees. She eventually stumbled upon a small frozen lake and pulled her camera out of her bag, crouching to take a few shots of the morning sun reflecting across its smooth, glassy surface. As she sat there, a pair of young foxes scurried out from the cover of the trees and raced to the lake, where they tumbled together on the ice and began to play.

Amber couldn’t believe her luck as she lowered herself to the ground, lying on her stomach and bringing the camera up to her eye. She snapped a number of photos in quick succession, then adjusted the settings and took some more, repeating the process a few times until she was confident she’d gotten some good ones. Then she simply laid there and watched, amazed at the scene in front of her. This was what she loved about her job.

The foxes stopped and lifted their heads, ears pricked as they listened, then dashed back into the forest.

Amber rose to her feet and brushed off the snow that clung to her clothing. She hung the camera around her neck, cradling the body in her hand as she continued.

She spent the next hour or so wandering through the trees, occasionally stopping to take photos of birds or to follow a set of tracks in the snow. She barely even noticed when the first fluffy snowflakes started falling, the tiny crystals of white creating a magical wonderland against the backdrop of rocks and pine trees.

She was just about to call it a day when she brushed past a tree and stumbled upon a fresh trail of footprints. Large footprints. _Moose_ footprints.

Her eyes grew wide at the sight, and all thoughts of turning back flew out of her mind. This was the opportunity she was looking for, the reason she’d flown out to Sweden in the first place. If she could follow these tracks and get a few good shots of the moose… she may never get a better opportunity than this.

Decision made, Amber began trekking her way through the forest, following the trail left behind by the animal. It was reckless, she knew, but the snow was still falling gently. If she caught up with it quick enough, she could snap a few photos and still have time to get back to the car.

As she followed the tracks, the snow began falling heavier and heavier, with no sign of the moose. She kept telling herself that it would be just beyond the next grove of trees, or another few minutes would do it, yet every time she came up short.

The snow began filling up the tracks, and visibility was starting to become an issue. She swore under her breath, finally admitting to herself that it was a lost cause. She turned to begin retracing her steps back to her car, quickly realizing that her footsteps as well as the moose's had been covered up by the fresh snow. She followed them as well as she could, picking up her pace, but it was no use. She was lost.

She pulled her phone out of her bag and turned it on. No signal.

“Fuck,” she mumbled.

She had to keep moving. She had to find a way back.

She trudged through the snow for what felt like hours, never getting anywhere. Tears filled her eyes as she cursed herself for her greediness and stupidity. She hugged herself, trying to keep herself warm against the cold as the temperature dropped and the sky began to darken.

As she wandered around, checking her phone every few minutes with no success, her eyes fell across what looked like light in the distance. She blinked a few times to ensure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, and stumbled in that direction, the light growing larger and larger, until she turned around a tree and stopped short. There, in a small clearing in the middle of the forest, was a cabin. An inhabited cabin, with a welcoming glow coming through the windows and a vehicle parked beside it.

She felt almost numb as she fell to her knees, relief washing over her. She was saved.

***

Henrik slammed the door of his truck shut and threw his bag over his shoulder as he made his way over to the cabin. He unlocked the door and pushed it open with his foot, dumping his bag on the floor and throwing himself onto the couch.

Finally, he was alone, in his favourite place on earth. About as close to being ‘off-the-grid’ as he could get without completely roughing it. No cell reception. Nobody bothering him, telling him to get over it. Nobody nagging at him to stop drinking, pick himself back up, and get back into the dating scene. Just peace and quiet, time for him to do whatever he wanted. To drink as much as he wanted, to let his facial hair grow out, to not shower for a week or two if he didn’t feel like it.

And with a snowstorm rolling in, he had made it just in time.

Henrik picked himself up off the couch and went back to the truck for the groceries, taking a few trips to carry everything inside. He’d packed enough to last him his entire stay in the cabin, no need to venture into town for more. He’d brought a _lot_ of rum and vodka. Then he went to turn on the generator, ensuring he’d have at least a few basic comforts.

Finally, he grabbed his axe and went out to chop firewood. It was a ritual that always relaxed him, but today as he swung the axe, he channeled all his rage, disappointment, and pain into it. The sharp crack of blade against timber felt like the breaking of his heart all over again, dashing it into little pieces.

He tore his shirt off as he worked up a sweat, his body overheating despite the chill in the air. Soft snowflakes began to fall, and still he kept chopping away, muscles rippling in his arms and shoulders with each swing.

Henrik chopped until his muscles burned and the snow thickened, a thin layer beginning to cover the pile of wood growing next to him. He swung the axe one more time, burying it into the tree stump he was using as a chopping block, then gathered up an armful of firewood and carried it onto the porch. He went back a few times, until all the firewood was neatly stacked against the side of the cabin and he could finally relax.

He grabbed his shirt and shook off the snow, then pulled it back over his head as he re-entered the cabin. He built a fire in the fireplace, then grabbed a bottle of rum and settled onto the couch. He lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, savouring the fiery burn as the liquid poured down his throat.

The sky outside grew darker, the snow continuing to fall as Henrik continued to drink, getting up only to occasionally add another log to the fire.

The bottle was almost empty when he thought he heard a knock on the door. Thinking he was imagining it, he brushed it off and lifted the bottle to his lips once more.

The knock came again, louder this time, and he swore under his breath. _Who the hell is out there in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm?_

He stumbled to his feet just as the knock came again and made his way on shaky legs to the door. He threw it open, finding a pretty young woman with wide blue eyes on the other side.

“Vem i helvete är du?”

***

Amber gulped as the door finally swung open to reveal an angry-looking Swede with bloodshot eyes holding an almost-empty bottle of liquor. She stared at him, speechless, until he repeated his words.

“Oh, um,” she stammered, “I don’t—sorry, do you speak English?”

The man rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorjamb. “I said, who the hell are you?”

She swallowed again, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth as she stared at the man. Despite his dishevelled appearance and the fact that he was looking at her like a piece of gum on his shoe, she had to admit that he was absolutely gorgeous, with his flashing green eyes and just a hint of end-of-day stubble.

 _Maybe this isn’t a good idea_ , she thought, until she realized that she had no other choice.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “but do you have a phone I could use? I don’t have reception.”

“Nope,” he said quickly, moving to shut the door.

Amber quickly stuck her foot in the doorway, earning herself a glare from the blonde man.

“It’s just that I got lost in the forest, you see, and I need to get back to my hotel.”

He stared at her, squinting his eyes as he took her in. “And how’s a phone gonna get you back to your hotel?”

She sighed. “I thought I could call someone.”

He snorted. “In case you hadn’t noticed, älskling, there’s a snowstorm going on. Even if you could call someone, they’re not coming for you.”

Her face dropped as she realized she was well and truly stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with no way of getting back.

The man sighed and opened the door, jerking his chin. “Come in. You look frozen.”

Amber sighed in grateful relief as she stepped inside and took a look around. The cabin was small, but cozy, with a roaring fire that immediately drew her attention. She suddenly realized just how cold she was and let out a shiver. In front of the fire was a bearskin rug, with an old beaten-up couch and two armchairs on either side. On the other end of the cabin was a small kitchen and dining area, and a couple doors that she assumed were a bathroom and bedroom.

“Um, you can sit by the fire to warm up, if you want.”

She smiled gratefully and stepped out of her boots. He offered to take her coat, so she shrugged out of it and handed it to him along with her hat, scarf, and mittens. He hung them over the chairs in the kitchen while she went over to the fire and lowered herself onto the rug in front of it, holding her hands out in front of the flames to warm them.

He handed her a blanket, and she was surprised to realize it was cashmere as she wrapped it around herself. It seemed out of place in the otherwise rough, masculine cabin.

“Do you want anything?” he asked. “Coffee, hot chocolate? Rum?”

“Hot chocolate sounds lovely,” she smiled.

He walked away, and she turned her attention back to the fire.

***

Henrik filled the kettle with water and plugged it in, sending sidelong glances over at his unexpected guest as he pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Her appearance had sobered him up, and he gazed longingly at the amber liquid in the bottom of the bottle he had left on the counter. This wasn’t how his evening was supposed to go. He was supposed to get drunk and stay that way, not babysit some British woman who was stupid enough to wander the forest during a storm.

But even in his drunken state he had known that he couldn’t send her away. The despair in those clear blue eyes had stirred something in him, sobering him up enough to realize that she needed him, and his instincts had kicked in.

He looked out the window at the snow continuing to fall and shook his head. He had seen the weather forecast, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to take her back into town tomorrow. With the amount of snow they were expecting, and the condition of the roads around his cabin, it could be a couple days before he’d be able to get her out. And with no cell reception, it’s not like he could call anyone else to help dig them out.

He sighed as he grabbed the hot chocolate powder and spooned it into the mugs, just as the water was coming to a boil. He glanced over at the bottle of rum as he poured the water, but decided he’d better not add it, as much as he wanted to.

He carried the mugs over to where the woman sat and held one out to her.

“I’m Henrik, by the way.”

She took the mug gratefully and wrapped her hands around it as she smiled up at him. “My name’s Amber. I’m really sorry about this.”

God, those blue eyes were gorgeous. He felt his irritation melting away as he lowered himself to the floor and leaned against the stone of the fireplace, stretching his legs out in front of him and watching as she blew gently on the hot liquid.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?”

“Taking photos. I’m a nature and wildlife photographer, and I’m only in the area for a few days. I knew about the storm, I just… got carried away. I was following moose tracks, and I was sure I’d be able to find it and get some amazing shots.”

“And did you?”

She shook her head. “Nope. All that, and I came up empty. I should’ve just turned back.”

“You’re lucky I was even here. I just drove up today for a few weeks. Getting away from it all.”

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows as she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. “What are you getting away from?”

He swallowed as his gaze flickered over to the bottle of rum that still sat on the kitchen counter. He ran his fingers through his hair as he opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Amber said, sensing his discomfort.

Henrik sighed. “No, it’s alright. I… I got some bad news recently, and I just needed to take some time away. I planned to spend the whole time drinking, but then, well, you showed up.”

Amber reached out and placed her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s not really fresh anymore, but it still hurts. I tried burying myself in work, taking extra shifts, but that hasn’t helped much. Figured I’d try this instead.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I mean, you don’t have to, but maybe it would help?”

He didn’t want to, but as he looked up at her and those damn eyes caught his attention again, he felt his walls crumbling. It might’ve been the alcohol in his system, or the comforting warmth of the fire, or just the way she looked at him, but something made him want to bare his soul to her.

So he talked. He told her about Blake, the woman he’d been in love with for years. He told her everything, about how they’d met while he was living in England. How he’d fallen fast and hard, and how they’d moved in together. How he’d spent months saving up for the perfect engagement ring, one with a huge rock, the type she was always gushing over. How he’d been planning the perfect proposal, one he knew she would love. How she’d cheated on him with his best friend. His _best friend!_ The one who’d helped him pick out the ring and given him ideas for the proposal! How he’d been so broken up about it that he’d moved back to Sweden. How he’d recently found out through a mutual friend that they had just gotten engaged.

And the kicker? Lucas, his _former_ best friend, had bought the same ring Henrik had been eying. He’d used the same proposal idea that he’d helped Henrik plan. The bloody bastard had taken away everything Henrik had ever wanted and dreamed of. The perfect girl, the perfect ring, the perfect proposal. The perfect posh prick had stolen them all.

“I really thought I was gonna marry her,” he said quietly as he stared into his now-empty mug. “But now she’s marrying _him_.”

Amber gave him a sympathetic look, then stood up and walked to the kitchen. She came back holding the bottle of rum and held it out to him. He lifted a hand to take it, but paused – he had meant to drink alone, and now he had a guest to think about. He lowered his hand to his lap, shaking his head.

Amber sat down again, this time sitting next to his stretched-out legs. She took their empty mugs and split the remaining liquid between them. She pushed his mug back towards him and picked up her own, holding it in both her hands.

“It’s okay to hurt,” she told him. “You lost both your girlfriend and your best friend at the same time. I can’t imagine what that kind of betrayal would do to someone, let alone to have them twist the knife all over again.”

He wrapped his large, calloused hand around his mug and lifted it up to hers. “Cheers,” he said, then he brought it to his lips and threw it back in one gulp, the liquid burning deliciously on its way down. He watched as she did the same, then stood up to fetch another bottle.

“More?” he asked.

“Actually, I—I probably shouldn’t. I haven’t eaten in a while, and—”

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “Sorry, I’m being a shitty host.”

“No, don’t apologize! I’m the one that barged in unannounced and interrupted your plans.”

Henrik waved his hand dismissively. “No worries, you’re a nice distraction.”

 _A very nice distraction_ , he thought as he opened the fridge. He perused the contents, grimacing as he realized he hadn’t brought much other than meat, cheese, and bread. He hadn’t been planning on spending much time in the kitchen, that’s for sure.

“Uh, I hope you’re not vegetarian?” He asked, peering over the fridge door at Amber.

She shook her head.

“Bacon and eggs okay?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Oh, and the bathroom is right there,” he jerked his head, indicating one of the two doors, “if you need it. Which you do. Or rather, you will. I mean—”

She simply smiled again and said thanks as she stood up. She shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and draped it over the couch, then went into the bathroom.

He smacked his hand against his forehead as the door closed behind her. “Henrik, you’re an idiot,” he mumbled. He turned on the stove and began cooking the bacon, then grabbed a loaf of rye bread and cut a few slices. He was just adding the eggs to the frying pan when Amber came out of the bathroom.

Henrik looked up and smiled. “Almost ready,” he said. “There should be some spare toothbrushes in the bathroom. I mean, extras. Fuck. New, unopened ones.”

“Thanks.”

“And I guess you’ll need clothes to sleep in? I can probably find something for you.”

“Oh, shit,” Amber said. “I didn’t even think about that. Thanks, you’re amazing.”

Henrik swallowed and turned back to the eggs to hide the blush he knew was forming on his cheeks. Damnit, he’d known this girl for what, an hour? Two? And not only had he told her his greatest hurts, but now he was a bumbling, blushing idiot. Sure, she was attractive as hell, but he was still picking up the pieces of his broken heart. And she was only in the country for a few days for work anyway.

He plated the food and carried it to the small dining table, where she was already sitting.

“Bon appetit,” he said as he placed a plate in front of her. He sat down across from her and dug into his own meal, occasionally peeking up at her.

They ate in silence, both realizing how hungry they were. When they were finished, Amber pointed to one of the many bottles of rum that he’d brought.

“Wanna play a drinking game?” she asked. “You did come here to drink, after all. Don’t let me stop you.”

“Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s still early, and I’ve got nothing better to do. It’ll be fun.”

“Alright.”

She grabbed a bottle and went back to sit by the fireplace while Henrik grabbed a couple shot glasses from a kitchen cupboard.

“What do you want to play?” he asked as he added a couple logs to the fire, then joined her on the rug.

“Never Have I Ever?”

“A classic.” He took the bottle from her and filled the glasses, then handed one to her. “I’ll start. Never have I ever gotten lost in a forest during a snowstorm.”

“Too easy,” Amber chuckled as she took the shot. “Never have I ever retreated to a cabin in the woods to drink myself into oblivion.”

He rolled his eyes and threw back his shot. “Never have I ever… trusted a strange man with my life.”

Her eyes sparkled before she drank, and once again he felt himself falling into them, almost mesmerized by their depth. The game continued until they forgot they were playing a game and just told each other stories about their lives. The shot glasses were forgotten as they took to passing the bottle back and forth.

Eventually the fire died down, and Amber was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep…” Henrik looked around the room, scratching his head. “I don’t know where I’ll sleep, actually.”

“Oh, no, I’ll just take the couch,” Amber slurred. “You keep your bed.”

Henrik giggled and pointed at the couch. “That is the bed.”

Amber frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “What about the bedroom?”

“There is no bedroom.”

“But—” she turned and pointed towards the door next to the bathroom “—bedroom?”

He laughed and ambled over to the door, opening it to reveal a cupboard. “Nope. I guess I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Amber frowned again and sank into one of the armchairs as she watched Henrik remove the cushions from the couch and pull out the bed frame underneath. He went to the cupboard and came back with a set of sheets and began making the bed.

“You shouldn’t… shouldn’t sleep on the floor,” she mumbled.

He finished making the bed and grabbed her hand to pull her over it. Too tired to argue, she sank onto the bed and curled up, not bothering to change out of her clothes. He moved away but she grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.

“Shtay,” she murmured, her eyes blinking slowly. “Plenty of… room… your bed…”

Her breathing deepened and she began snoring lightly. Henrik looked back and forth between the rug and the empty space on the bed beside her, then shrugged to himself and took his jeans off, throwing them on one of the armchairs. He lifted the covers and slid in next to her.

***

When Amber woke up the next morning, her head was pounding. She squinted at the bright light coming through the cabin window as she rolled onto her back – or at least, tried to. As she moved there was a low moan and the shifting of another body directly behind her. A distinctly male body, judging by what was pressed against her back.

 _Oh, god_. She racked her brain for memories of the night before. She had been drunk, for sure, but she didn’t think she’d slept with him, although she had definitely been thinking about it at various times during the evening. She vaguely recalled him offering to sleep on the floor and her insisting he share the bed, but that was the last thing she remembered.

She tried to scootch over to put a more comfortable distance between them, only to find herself right at the edge of the bed with nowhere to go. It was then that she realized his arm was slung around her waist, and in his sleep he mumbled and pulled her closer against him.

She waited for his body to still, then with a wince she slowly lifted his arm, taking care not to wake him as she rolled off the bed. She headed straight for the cabin door and threw it open.

 _Oh, fuck_. There was a _lot_ of snow on the ground, everything covered in a blanket of white, and it was still falling. She realized there was likely no way she was getting back to the hotel that day.

She closed the door with a shiver, then looked towards the fireplace. The fire had died down during the night, but there were still remnants of burning embers. She added a couple logs and stoked the coals, tending to it until flames licked at the logs and its heat began to warm her.

If she was going to be stuck here another day, she needed clean clothes. She found the clothing – a jumper and joggers – that Henrik had offered her the night before and changed in the bathroom, then brought her own clothes to the sink to handwash them.

By the time she was finished and setting out her clothes by the fire to dry, Henrik was just beginning to stir. He rolled over, rubbing his eyes when he spotted her.

“Blake?” he mumbled.

“No, it’s Amber,” she responded, and he dropped his head back on the pillow with a grunt.

There was a flutter in her stomach as she watched him sit up in bed and run his fingers through his gorgeous blonde locks. She tried to ignore it, wondering instead what his ex-girlfriend was like and why he was so hung up on her that he was mumbling her name so long after she’d broken his heart. And whether there was anything she could do to ease the pain.

She sighed softly, and Henrik’s head turned toward her. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her in his clothes, then flickered over to her own garments laying by the fire. He swallowed as his gaze lingered briefly on her lacy black underwear, and she turned away, feeling her face flush as she cursed herself for not having had the sense to wear something more practical.

His voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked back to find him staring at her expectantly.

“Pardon?”

“I asked if you’d like breakfast.”

Her stomach growled in response, and she gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, that would be nice, thank you.”

Henrik got up from the bed and Amber’s eyes followed him into the kitchen, admiring the way his boxer briefs perfectly hugged his bum. She settled onto one of the armchairs, watching him as he worked in the kitchen. There was something about him she found fascinating, and she tried to remember what he had said he did for a living. Something to do with climbing, she thought. Whatever it was, his body was lean and muscular, a clear indicator of an active lifestyle. She watched the muscles in his arms flex and wondered what it would be like to be in those arms…

She jumped as Henrik dropped something on the floor, the noise pulling her from her reverie. She shook her head, reprimanding herself for her thoughts.

_Get it together, Amber. He’s just a random stranger helping you out, and a heartbroken one at that._

She leaned back in the chair and stared into the fire, trying to distract herself from thoughts of the man in the kitchen. But something was drawing her to him, something more than empathy. She had barged in on him uninvited, but he had treated her with nothing but respect and kindness. He seemed like a genuinely good guy, one who didn’t deserve the way he’d been treated, and in other circumstances, maybe…

Henrik interrupted her thoughts once again to tell her breakfast was ready, and they ate in awkward silence. For the first time, they were both completely sober, and both completely aware of the other’s very presence, each of them stealing glances at the other when they weren’t looking.

Amber reached for the saltshaker at the same time Henrik picked up his glass of water, and her arm brushed against his fingers, sending a spark of electricity through her. She stifled a gasp, and the sound that escaped her lips came out as a squeak instead. She flushed in embarrassment as he raised his eyes to hers, the corners of his lips turning up in amusement.

“That was cute,” he said. “Do that again.”

She laughed, and any awkwardness they had felt previously melted away as the ice was broken between them. They chatted more comfortably through the rest of their meal and the subsequent cleanup.

Afterwards, Henrik converted the bed back into a sofa and dropped onto it.

“So, what do you want to do today?” he asked.

Amber glanced briefly out the window before sitting at the other end of the couch and facing him, tucking one of her legs beneath her. “What else is there to do? Do you want to drink all day?”

“Nah,” he shook his head with a grimace. “That seemed like a good idea before, but for some reason I don’t feel the need to drown my sorrows today.”

She smiled, the thought that she might have had an impact on his mood warming her throughout.

Henrik’s face brightened. “Do you play cards?”

“I love card games.”

He shot up out of his seat and crossed the room to the cupboard. He dug around for a bit and came up with a deck of playing cards and a cribbage board.

“Cribbage?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?”

Amber joined him at the table and shuffled the cards as Henrik set up the board.

“Do you play often?” she asked as they got the game underway.

He shrugged. “I like to carry a couple games with me when I’m on an expedition, but I don’t have as much opportunity to play cribbage.”

“I haven’t played in years.”

“Maybe I’ll take it easy on you, then,” he grinned.

She smiled, and a competitive glint flashed in her eye. “Please don’t.”

They continued playing, and a couple hours later were finishing up a third game.

“Another?” Amber asked as she picked up the cards, a questioning look on her face.

“Okay, one more. Need to beat you this time.”

She began to shuffle the deck, but as she smirked at him her fingers slipped, and the cards tumbled onto the floor. Henrik laughed heartily before kneeling down next to her to help pick them up.

They reached for the same card and their hands brushed against each other. Amber’s breath caught in her throat and she froze as she looked up with wide eyes to find his own staring back at her. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she swallowed. His lips parted slightly as if he were about to speak, and she suddenly realized how close they were, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her heart raced as he brushed his tongue over his lip, and she was barely conscious of the fact that she was leaning towards him.

***

Henrik could hardly breathe. One moment they were teasing and joking, and with one small touch the mood had completely shifted. She was staring up at him almost expectantly, not pulling away like he would have predicted, and his brain was urging him to make a damn move; but his body was frozen in place.

He looked at her lips and wondered how they would taste, making his mouth water with anticipation. His tongue darted over his lips and he could have sworn she was moving closer, closer, until he could feel her breath ghosting against his skin; skin that felt like it was bursting into flames at the mere hint of contact.

His heart pounding, he lifted his gaze back to her eyes, and the ocean blue colour sparked an unbidden thought in his mind.

_Snowmobile._

The blue eyes blinked, and Amber pulled back with a frown.

“What?”

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he realized he must have said the word out loud.

His mind raced, trying to figure out what he could say to salvage the situation, but as he gazed at her and saw the look of confusion on her face, he realized the mood was broken.

“I, um. I just remembered… I have a snowmobile.”


End file.
